G1-Sunstreaker-It's His World

Rating-Crack -_-

Note: So much OOC, that I should be shot.

Morning, the time to wake from his beauty recharge and begin his day, onlining his optics to a the massive room that was his own, no Sideswipe, filled to the brim with pleasantries to make Mirage swoon at the expensiveness of it all. His own masterpieces hung in decorated frames upon the walls, filling him with pride at his work.

Sighing contently, he decided to make his way out of the plush fine threaded covers of his massive berth, not that he needed such a large space for himself, no, his frame was as much as a masterpiece as those he had painted. The large bedding was for his lovely berth warmers to enjoy, along with himself and each other.

The joys of being Sunstreaker.

Stretching his flawless body, he smirked up at the reflective surface along the ceiling placed just rightly so above the berth. To view himself, of course.

Now for the best part of his morning, a nice, hot bath followed by wax treatment. He sauntered his way across the large room to the extravagate doors outlined in various jewels that led to his favorite of places.

His personal washroom-"Good morning, Sunstreaker."-with his personal assistants.

Both stood among the marbled room, their figures reflective in the surfaces that brought the room to shine. Their white armor gleamed in the bright lights and the dreamy smiles on their faces would have melted another bot's spark, he would never have anything but the finest to aid him.

And no one could beat the angel like features or skills of the SIC and CMO.

He smirked at the lovely bots and headed toward the large tub in the middle of the room, his steps nearly airlike, "My dears, what's on today's agenda?"

He sighed as he sat in the relaxing cleanser, the jet streams swirled the liquid around him as well as put a relaxing pressure on his back.

Prowl pulled a data pad out of his subspace, "Prime has had it passed where you are free for as long as you want, your shifts will be covered by the mechs of your choice for what ever duties you wish."

The golden mech nodded as he motioned the medic over with two digits, why clean himself when he had the talents of trained servos to do it for him. He glanced at the Datsun, "I want Tracks on cleaning the public washrooms then I want him on guard duty outside the ARK."

The pearl bot smiled and waded in, "What a wonderful choice, love, it's muddy outside from the recent storm and we can't risk anything to your Primus sent chassis."

A yellow arm snaked around the med-bot and pulled him closer so he can nuzzle the smaller mech's neck wire, "So is that a medical order for me to stay inside?"

"What ever pleases you, love."

How freaking fantastic is that, not that he needed the excuse, he could simply stayed in all he wanted. Speaking of fantastic things, better get those red digits to work.

Prowl coughed and the twin glanced over at him, "Sir, there is one thing that you must do today."

A sigh, there was always something wasn't there, "What would that be?"

Doorwings gave an excited flutter, "Why, sir, to attend the party that is in your honor, we all must give thanks for having you grace your presence aboard the crew."

The frontliner let out a short deep laugh before motioning the other in, "Best not to keep them waiting, seems like I'll need extra care today."

The other two giggled.

-Break-

Life was good, sitting on his throne that was positioned at the end of a extravagant room, the décor lavished to all expenses and to his tastes. He swirled his goblet of energon, the glass made to fit perfectly in his servos and made by the finest of artisans in the field of glassmakers.

He glanced down at the white helm laying on the inside of his thighs, the little med-bot had made a seat on the floor between his legs and was using his knee as a pillow as they both watched the activities before them. To his right stood Prowl, waiting for his orders while supervising the party and to get anything that the yellow Lambo desired. Gifts were laid on a table from the residence to show their admiration toward the gorgeous mech, even the Cons had sent gifts…all checked by Red Alert of course.

It was such a wonderful thing to be gorgeous, so much more when there was not a spark who could compare with him. All wilting at the sheer mention of his name from the tales of his heroics and beauty.

"Sir, would you like anything?"

Sunstreaker didn't even bother looking over at the Praxian but did a simple motion with his servo and the mech nodded before walking down the stairs that lead up to the thrown to retrieve some snacks for the warrior.

"Mmm, where is that brother of mine?"

The grey chevron helm turned to flutter crystal optics up at him, "He's in the brig, love, do you wish for his presence?"

A golden servo stroked the twin's chin as he seemed to be in deep thought, before nodding, "I feel like a race."

"But your armor!"

He patted the white helm, "I'll race inside the ARK, I would never risk my finish."

A relieved sigh, "Oh, don't scare me like that, love."

Light steps alerted them to the approaching figure of the SIC, a gold plate with the finest of treats there were to offer in his servos, he bowed politely, "Your favorites, sir."

Sunstreaker nodded at Ratchet to take the plate before telling the Praxian to retrieve his brother. He watched as the black and white leave before stroking the grey chevron, he smirked down at the ambulance, "I don't want to dirty my servos, feed me my treats."

"Anything for you, love."

A cherry servo delicately picked up one of the sweets before reaching up to pop it in the open mouth of the larger mech, the Lambo purred at the sensation of the candy melting on his glossa, perfect. He licked his lips as the medic stared up at him, "Sweet, but I want something else."

The porcelain bot flashed his optics, "You can get anything you want, you deserve it all."

"Anything?," he pulled the mech into his lap in one quick movement, getting a slight 'eep' out of him, the plate falling to the floor, "How about something along the lines of cherry vanilla."

He gently lifted the white face and placed a light kiss on pearl lips before diving in fully, one of his servos dipped down into the crevice of a hip, a small gasp was devoured.

"STOP!"

Sunstreaker shuttered his optics as someone broke through his storytelling haze, he glared at the mechs sitting across the table from him, "You asked what my dreams were about, I'm telling you."

Prowl glared at him as Jazz fell out of his seat, "You were asked what were your dreams, like how Bluestreak wants to be an interior designer-"

The gunner's wings fluttered, "I make those home improvement shows look like slag!"

"Indeed, not what you dream about during recharge."

The frontliner just snorted, "You should be glad that you were in it."

"Sunstreaker…"

They all turned to look at Ratchet at the corner of the table, "I'm going to murder you."

"…Do I get some cherry vanilla before you do?"

-*Takes gun, shoots thyself* Writing this made me laugh and want to strangle myself for the OOCness! I ship Ratch/Twins or any combination of the three. XD! Also, Sunny has the worst pickup lines, EVER! Cherry vanilla, I must be on something.